The three musketeers : A twist
by IgnotusAngelus
Summary: This is the results of a little role-play between Cars-Rabbits-Books92 and me. We imagined a Three Musketeers novel a little different then from the canon version, and we thought it a good idea to publish it. Please tell us what you think!


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It had been a wonderful day at the Pomme de Pin, that little bistro that had become one of their favorite spots since they had met. The room was cheery, the people were drinking, laughing, playing games and having fun. In a little reserved corner, four men were sitting at a table, as we said, and enjoying the remains of a good supper. Porthos was cleaning what little meat there was left on a mutton bone, Aramis was writing on a piece of paper and counting on his fingers, evidently riming, and Athos, having emptied his glass, was sitting back and quite simply enjoying the other's company. He looked at his gascon friend, and something of a small smile flashed on his features.

D'Artagnan took a final sip of his wine, emptying the glass, and looked to Athos to see the slight smile on his face and gladly returned it. He set down his glass and looked at the their companions to see that they had finished also. He waited a moment to enjoy the feeling of the companionable silence before broaching a question.

- What shall we do now gentlemen?

Porthos threw the bone on the plate and gave a good slap on D'Artagnan's back, almost sending him sailing out of his chair. - It only takes a provincial not to know what townfolks do for entertainment! You there! he called towards the waitor. More wine, maraud! we are dying of thirst here!

Aramis looked up from his somewhat ruffled paper, that had been disturbed by his colossal friend's movement, with something of an irritated or sour expresssion. - Well, whatever townfolk do, it'll be without me, he said, standing up and gathering his things. I have a study appointment with a doctor which I cannot miss.

- We understand, Athos said, nodding with a slight grin and a little twinkle of amusment in his eye.

D'Artagnan steadied himself and the chair back on four legs, taking a slightly choking breath after Porthos's chosen method of good natured affection. He put his hand over the top of his glass when the maraud went to pour some in his glass, having had enough for the evening. He sent Aramis a nod and a smile as he left for his appointment and turned to Athos as Porthos had engaged one of the maids in conversation.

I think it would be a good thing to retire early tonight, Athos said, seeing that Porthos was getting ready to stay for somewhat longer. I have guard duty at dawn at the Louvre.

- You never were one to refuse a drink, Athos, Porthos laughed, with the girl now sitting on his lap. but whatever suits you! D'Artagnan, are you staying here with me and these beautiful ladies?

Athos, who was getting up, raised an eyebrow in semi interrogation towards his younger friend. It was well known that the young and zealous gascon faithfully accompanied every one of his friend who happened to be on Guard duty, with as touching a regularity as if he was indeed amongst the musketeers.

D'Artagnan sent Athos a sidelong glance and looked to Porthos once more.

- Not tonight Porthos. I think I will retire early also.

Porthos gave a booming laugh and waved to his friends as they left as he was rapidly becoming more preoccupied with the girl in his lap. D'Artagnan stood and followed Athos out the door and into the street.

The night was rather cool for May. Athos set a brisk walk towards the Luxembourg, with d'Artagnan, who's house was along his own way. the freshness of the night gave some clarity to their surroundings, and they could very well see where they were heading. It was also a full moon. Athos liked this weather more then any other, where everything was in shallow darkness, but not fully hidden to the eye. He glanced towards his friend.

- How are things going with that Planchet of yours?

D'Artagnan stumbled a little over a stone in the road but regained his balance and kept step with Athos as they reached a point where four streets met.

- He is still complaining as of late. I will possibly have to give him a sound thrashing but I have not decided yet.

Although the night was clear and the streets visible due to the abundance of light, d'Artagnan found that his surroundings did not look as familiar to him as before.

- Athos, do you know where we are?

Athos opened his mouth to answer his friend when he was cut off by the sound of a scream. Both men froze and listened carefully, senses in alert. There were a few hurried paces and then another scream, this one distinctively feminine. It was coming from the other street, down East

The two looked at each other and shared a look before taking off at full speed down the eastern street, drawing their swords as they ran. They rounded a corner in the street and stopped to gaze upon the scene that had caused the woman to scream

Two men were running after a young woman, who, terrorized, did her very best to escape in the dark. She was very much impeded by her large dress, and she would here and there stumble against the hem in her great haste to escape them.

She saw the two musketeers and made a final effort to run to them, finally collapsing in sheer fatigue near them. Athos caught her just as she was falling, only to have her faint in his arms. He gave a dark look to the men who were approaching, evidently furious at losing their prey.

- Buffoons, go find yourself another wench! This one is ours!

- There is no "ours" that holds! you were running after this young girl to do her violence, I would swear, Athos said icily. Well, you won't have her, if we can help it! There is no bigger shame then to hurt the honour of a young woman.

The two men sneered and approached, becoming threatening. The crossed a beam of light from the moon, who gave away their true identity. It was Jussac, and one of his accolytes! Athos scowled at them, trying both to hold the fainted girl and to protect her with his blade

Athos fought with difficulty against the two when d'Artagnan found a way to pull Jussac away from Athos and farther into the street by means of insulting him.

- Surely you are coward monsieur if you must duel against a man who is already being attacked by another. Come and face me should you dare!

With the challenge issued, he dashed around another corner and could hear Jussac following as well as the sounds of Athos's continued clash with Jussac fellow guar.

Athos blocked an attack from the accolyte, and quickly swerving under the blade, he gently placed the young woman on the ground, before walking forward and taking stance before his opponent, his eye gleaming with anger.

Meanwhile, the Cardinal's favorite had clenched his teeth, recognizing the man who had taunted him in such a manner. It was that bloody gascon devil, who had already humiliated him once in Richelieu's face.

- Sangdiable, you wont escape me this time, devil!

He lashed at the younger man, his features a grimace of fury and crualty.

D'Artagnan retaliated with all speed, determined to put the guard through his paces once more before striking him down. He found himself almost dancing around Jussac as the guard made several violent swings and missing each time only to find himself being nicked in several places such as along the left arm and on the side of his face.

- You are a guard of the Cardinal? Surely you jest!

Jussac seemed to froth at the mouth, eyes buggled out with his rage. He squirmed and hit blank, once one of the brightest blades of France, and now merely demented fool, so strong and blind was his fury. He did however recover somewhat of his stance, and in a magistral effort, he fended himself greatly and thrusted his blade through the flesh of d'Artagnan's left arm.

- Ha! he laughed, eyes almost rolling, who's the broken man now?

Athos had given the last hit to his opponent, who was now lying on the ground with his throat wide open. He took the still faint young woman in his arms and quickly followed the noise of the battle, only to see Jussac get a hit on his friend's arm. He bit down on his lip.

D'Artagnan found himself being forced onto the defensive and blocked and attempted to parry each attack but found himself being cut off midway, so vicious was Jussac's rage. He felt his left arm slowing begin to gain a numb feeling and threw what energy he had behind his sword as he forced Jussac to defend himself, attacking with all speed in hopes on finishing the battle...

Jussac's eyes were bloodshot and unrecognizable. He pushed relentlessly at his young opponent, his features deforming into a savage smile that had nothing human left in it. As d'Artagnan blocked yet another savage blow from the dreadful weapon, his own sword shattered in two. With a grunt, Jussac was instantly atop the young man to give him the final blow, when his blade met the metallic and resounding noise of another. Athos, eyes dark with anger, pushed back the demented officer, despite paleness slowly creeping up his face. His own wound in the shoulder wasn't completely healed, and after the effort of dueling the other man and carrying the young woman... Nevertheless, his features showed nothing of it. He pressed Jussac hard, to allow his younger friend to recover. Then, in a swift motion, he threw the sword to the now standing gascon, who caught it by the handle, all the while avoiding the flèche that Jussac was aiming at this chest. Jussac grunted savagely and charged the gascon, like a wild bull chasing after a red cloth.

D'Artagnan stood his ground calmly despite the danger looming before him and as Jussac made to thrust his sword and skewer him, he spun away and pierced his throat. Jussac fell with nary a sound and d'Artagnan leaned heavily against wall, limply holding the blood stained sword and looked to Athos as they both waited for the other to regain their breaths.

Athos walked to his young friend and the young woman near the wall, and he rested his back on it, his hand reaching for his shoulder. A soft moan was heard, and the young woman stirred from her faint, and looked about, fright evidently returning to her features. But she soon relaxed when she saw the dead bodies of her two assailants. Although her relief tinted with worry when she saw that her two saviors were evidently wounded. She got up, swept her long dress and took the hands of the young gascon, her eyes gleaming.

- Thank you, messieurs, for saving me! How can I ever repay you? Ask, don't fear, I am the countess d'Agenois, and the duke my father will certainly be pleased.

D'Artagnan pressed his handkerchief to the wound in his arm and looked to Athos, who seemed to be favouring his once wounded shoulder, waiting to see his response to the young woman's offer.

For the first time since the beginning of the ordeal, Athos took a better look at the young woman that had barely escaped feu Jussac's grip by means of their assistance. The girl had nothing of one of little virtue. Smartly dressed in a pastel shade gown that flowed freely, she had a mantle over her delicate shoulders, indicating her evident youth. Her eyes, although shining in the moonlight, gave no clue of their colour, but clearly indicated her noble raising. She busied herself by taking the handkerchief away from d'Artagnan's hand, gracefully, and tending to the wound. This girl was far from the "wench" she had been called!

- How does a young girl like yourself wander around in the streets unescorted, and in this ill reputed part of the town?

She looked at him then lowered her eyes, despite his tone having been gentle, much like a little girl caught doing something wrong.

- In all honesty, Monsieur, I am a little lost...

Athos repressed a slight chuckle at that. The girl couldn't be much more then 18 if even that. He looked at his friend then back at the girl, and gave a nod of assent.

- We'll escort you home safely, then, Mademoiselle.

She beamed at both men gratefully.

- Oh thank you! You are so kind!

Athos held out his good arm to the young woman's assistance while D'Artagnan snatched rather then took his handkerchief back from her hand with a sour look and pressed it to his arm once more, barely restraining a hiss of pain from his lips as he pressed too hard against the wounded flesh. Athos noticed this out of the corner of his eye but kept the smile from coming to his face. The gascon kept behind and a little to the right, watching all around them in case of a possible ambush as the three of them began to weave their way through the streets.

- In which area of Paris do you live, Mademoiselle? Athos asked as they walked.

- I live in the Place Royale, Monsieur, at number 24.

Athos suppressed a movement of surprise at this. The young woman had managed to wander half across the town from her residence. She really must have had a terrible day...

Well... So much for sleeping early. He glanced towards his gascon friend to see him still holding his arm, and he frowned in slight worry. Nevertheless, his step was rythmic and stable, and he didn't seem to have any other pain then his bloodied arm and wounded ego.

They walked to the Pont-Neuf and there took the bac, for which the little countess took money out of a silk purse tied to her skirt. After about twenty minutes, they came to the designated number, where a number of people seemed to be agitated and running.

- Father!

No sooner had the young girl spoken, that some ten people had ran to the trio, and Cassandre was engulfed in a hug by a tall and strong man. Athos smiled at that, silently watching the reunion.

- We were worried half to death, Cassandre, where in heaven's name have you been?

Without letting her time to answer, the man looked searchingly at the two musketeers, in a suspicious way.

- And who are these two men?

- These two brave gentlemen are my saviors, papa, Cassandre answered. They delivered me from two horrid men who would have done me harm, and they helped me find my way back home.

The suspicion melted away from the noble features of the father, and he extended a hand towards Athos, who shook it.

- I am most grateful for your intervention, Messieurs, in assisting my youngest daughter. How can we thank you?

D'Artagnan had watched the scene in silence alongside Athos but only took in half of what was happening and being said as he had been more focused on keeping himself on his feet. He had tensed his body in hopes of hiding a tremble but it had only succeeded in causing more blood to flow and he had pressed more forcibly with his handkerchief. He shifted one foot a slight bit behind him in hopes of keeping his balance and not showing his weakness.

The general crowd, obviously the families gens, had gone back to their usual occupations. Only remained at the side of the doorstep the two musketeers with the young countess and her father. As the two of them were talking together, Athos let them and took a step back closer to his friend, whom he felt a few seconds later shiver slightly. This could have passed unnoticed by the musketeer, but from the young gascon, it was such a rare occurence that Athos gave a good look at him, and his eyes widen at the sight. His friend was pale, and struggling to simply remain standing on his feet.

- D'Artagnan, are you well?

He rounded the younger man's shoulders with his arm in hopes to steady him a little, but upon him tensing up, he withdrew his hand, only to find it was drenched in red liquid.

- Morbleu, young man, you're injured! Ricaud! Chamblin, sacrebleu! Go find a doctor quickly!

The duke's thundering voice reached the two men in question, who abandoned their business and quickly went to get the desired person. The stout man and Athos escorted the gascon inside the luxurious building, where he was quickly installed on a chair and uncovered. In the light, it was visible that he had lost a great amount of blood. His cloak was drenched in it. Cassandre ran further in and came back with a large basin of water, and followed by another young woman of about the same age, who had some cloths to use.

Cassandre held her hand out towards the young woman who accompanied her and waited until she felt a damp cloth pressed into her hand before beginning to wrap the wound. The two of them continued this small, but neccessary routine until Cassandre reached back for another cloth and found that she was not given one.

- Cassandre, there are no more cloths, the young woman muttered quietly.

Indeed, as she had said, there were none left to use. The water, which had been clear, had taken an angry red colour. But just then, steps could be heard in the corridor, and a man, obviously of medical profession, stepped in the living room where they were all and surveyed the situation.

- I came to your request, Monsieur le duc, said the man. Where is the wounded?

- Right here, Monsieur de Mélandrière. This young man was hurt while assisting my daughter. Please do take care of him.

The doctor nodded and and approached D'Artagnan, appraising the way the injury had been kept clean and pressed to reduce the blood flow. He quickly tended to the wound, bandaging it carefully, then he examined the young man's vitals signs.

- He will live, but he might need a few day's rests after losing so much blood. How did you acquire such a wound, my young master? Not in a duel, I should hope? You do know that duels are forbidden in the kingdom of France!

The words were harsh, but the twinkle in the doctor's eyes contradicted his severity. He patted his shoulder, picked his consultation bag and made his way to the door, the duke escorting him. Cassandre remained with the two friends, and the other young girl, who was sitting quietly next to her.

- I forgot to introduce you to my very dearest friend Andréa Renée Lucie. She is countess of Lavarre, and she's staying with our family while her father, ambassador of France, is travelling to Spain.

The musketeers looked to the young woman who glanced up quickly, dipping her head slightly in greeting.

- It is a pleasure to meet you.

She spoke softly, bowed her head and kept her focus on her folded hands in her lap, a feeling of embarrassment creeping up due to her evident shyness.

Athos' eyes soften at the sight of the young lady. He leaned forward, took her gentle hand in his and lightly brushed it with his lips.

- The pleasure is all ours, Comtesse.

The duke then appeared in the door frame, having escorted the old doctor back to the door and seen that he returned home safely. The musketeer rose again and held a hand out to the stout nobleman.

- I really must thank you for your kind generosity towards my friend D'Artagnan.

The duke laughed and pressed the musketeeer's hand warmly.

- It was the very least I could do in return to repay the bravery of both you gentlemen.

As the two men talked, Andréa looked at Cassandre curiously, her head tipped to resemble a young, curious animal.

- Why were you so far from here if I may ask, Cassandre? I was practising my music when your father and all of the servants began to rush around looking for you.

Cassandre shook her head and smiled cheepishly.

- I've been wandering like a silly goose all day. I had walked a few streets down from here and I saw a most beautiful harp displayed in a shop. Then when I came out, I must have turned the wrong way, and found myself completely lost.

Her eyes gave a glint of excitement and joy, as she gripped the hand of her friend.

- Its such a beautiful thing, all decorated with gold and silver, and there is even an angel figure engraved in the base!

Andréa saw the excitement in her friend's eyes and couldn't help but smile. She gently squeezed Cassandre's hand, nodding.

- Then maybe we should return to this shop you speak of and purchase the harp? This way you won't get so lost after visiting it! Consider it a present from me for letting me stay here with you whilst my father travels.

Cassandre bit down on her lower lip, but it was evident from her expression that she was overwhelmed in joy and was fighting not to display it like a child. All she could do was press Andréa's hand more. Already she was dreaming of how her fingers would run on the vibrant strings in a cascade of enchanting music.

Athos and the duke had approached D'Artagnan, and sat down in chairs next to his couch.

- By the way, I believe my friend and I haven't been able to introduce ourselves. My name is Athos and he is D'Artagnan.

- I am Richard Louis, duke of Aquitaine.

- It is an honour to meet Your Grace.

- Please, none of this. I hope that you will count amongst our friends, the duke smiled.

Athos bowed in acknowledgement.

Cassandre sat listening to the conversation between the musketeers and her father and glanced over at Andréa who was watching her silently, having gone completely silent once the two men had returned. Andréa gave her a slight nod of encouragement and Cassandre looked to the duke, waiting patiently for a chance to speak.

- Father, may I ask you something? She asked when there was a pause in the conversation between Athos and the duke.

Richard looked to his daughter, waiting for her question. She held his gaze as she spoke.

- May Andréa and I be allowed to go to a little shop I saw on my walk today? There is something I want to show her there.

Silence became thick in the air after she finished, waiting a bit nervously for her father's response.

- Speaking of which, young lady, the duke said, turning to his daughter. I'm very surprised at your behaviour. You know better then to wander out in the capital unaccompanied!

Cassandre's cheeks flushed crimson and she lowered her head.

- I'm sorry, father, but it had been some eight days since our arrival, and I very much felt like I need to take fresh air. Andréa was still at her music lesson and I couldn't find anyone free to accompany me...

The duke softened, and he reached out to pat his daughter's cheek slightly. She took after her mother's taste for open spaces. She could never tire of exploring their lands on her favorite horse, often leaving for hours.

- It is all right, Cassandre. I will make sure that you are accompanied next time you wish to walk the streets. Now what was it you wanted to ask of me?

Cassandre looked up at her father, her smile returning to her delicate features.

- I found today a most beautiful harp in a shop a few streets down from here. Oh papa, it is the most beautiful instrument I've ever seen!

The duke felt a small smile spread on his features at his daughter's excitement.

- And you wanted to go and have another look at this harp?

- With your permission of course, s-sir... Andréa spoke quietly, stammering nervously on the last word.

Cassandre looked to her father, eyes sparkling with hope for an affirmative answer. Athos sat back, watching the exchange with a slight smile at the innocence of the two girls.

D'Artagnan had finally fallen asleep on the long couch, but Athos was relieved to see that colour was progressively returning to his features. He stood, as the duke gave his assent to his daughter and her friend for the next day.

- We really must take our leave, monsieur le duc. I have guard duty at the palace tomorrow at dawn, and I wish to make sure my friend reaches his appartment safely.

- Then allow me to put one of my carriages at your disposal. Ricaud will ride you home and then bring it back here.

- Thank you, monsieur.

With a gentle nudge, Athos roused his friend awake, and helped him up from the couch and walk to the door, followed by Cassandre who looked worriedly at the gascon.

- I do hope he will be fine.

- He will, do not trouble yourself, mademoiselle, answered Athos. D'Artagnan is a strong man!

Cassandre nodded at Athos' assured tone, as she watched them walk the few steps down to the awaiting carriage. Then she went back in the building to join her friend.


End file.
